Sweet and Sour
by BigYikesMarvel
Summary: IronDad-SpiderSon to feed your soul - Peter is studying at Stark industries when he has a badly-timed panic attack. While he's recovering, something happens that will change his already unstable life for the worse. Will Peter be able to overcome this new obstacle? Who the hell is Quentin Beck? (all events of Endgame have played out except Tony doesn't die) Rated T- some swearing
1. Chapter 1

How often would you forget how to breathe? Peter struggled to inhale and exhale and his vison went blurry around the edges. He could feel the building collapsing on top of him, being crushed under the falling rubble. He could feel Mr. Stark's hands pressing against his arms, cradling his head. He could feel the agony of having his body turned to dust. He could remember each different reality trapped in the soul stone. Watching Tony die over and over again.

"Peter are you alright?" Somebody may have said. It was like the sound was traveling underwater.

Rubble and dust. Peter's vision got fuzzier and he had stopped trying to breathe. Peter felt himself sliding sideways off the stool he was sitting on. His head hit the ground and he blacked out.

"Peter? Peter! Oh my god FRIDAY get Mr. Stark" A girl's voice rang distantly in Peter's ears. Wait, he knew that girl. Michelle. MJ. MJ's voice.

"Peter? Shit, Peter what happened?" Another voice. Strong hands lifted him onto something soft. The same hands ran though his hair softly in slow, repetitive motions. "FRIDAY dim the lights." A man's voice. Peter's eyes gradually opened a tiny bit. Peter didn't want them to open, he wanted to lie in the darkness and have Tony's hand run though his hair. Wait, Mr. Stark? Peter's eyes flew fully open and he saw Michelle Jones and Tony Stark staring at him in the relative darkness, their faces full of worry. Tony's hand jumped from Peter's hair.

"Hey, Pete." Tony said softly. He sat down next to Peter and put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Peter struggled to get up and MJ eased him back down, crouching slightly at Peter's eye level next to the couch.

"Peter, please calm down. What just happened?" She looked so worried, Tony looked even more worried, if that was even possible. Peter felt horrible at causing them to be worried, he felt that he wasn't worth worrying about.

"I'm sorry." Peter's voice broke. "I'm so sorry-" Peter started apologising put MJ cut him off.

"Don't apologise, Pete, you haven't done anything wrong. You can tell us what happened, though."

MJ noticed that Peter's leg was bouncing so she but a hand on it and sat down next to him, sandwiching Peter in-between herself and Tony.

"I-" Peter started but then seemed to get caught on his own tongue. He swallowed and tried again.

"It's um-" Peter's eyes burned and his chest was tight. He couldn't talk about this in front of MJ. She'd think he was weak and then she'd never like him, just like Tony did when he took away the suit.

Michelle seemed to realize this and gave an excuse to leave the room.

"Peter do you want some water?" Without waiting for a response, she got up abruptly and turned to the kitchen. "I'm gonna get Peter some water." MJ said to no-one in particular as she speed-walked towards the kitchen and they heard her footprints grow quieter and fade. Tony watched her leave and Peter stared at his hands.

"Peter." Tony's voice was quiet. The hand on Peter's shoulder squeezed a little and he turned Peter towards him slightly. Peter looked up at him. Tony's heart broke slightly to see how terrified Peter looked.

"I- I don't know. I keep on thinking about- about things…" Peter trailed off because he didn't want to think about those things. The building with the Vulture was nothing new, he had panicked about those for a while, and then it fell back a bit. But the others… those were new. And much more terrifying. Tony's eyebrows knitted together. He didn't know. He didn't know about the thousands of futures in which he died, in which Peter had watch him die. Over and over, trapped in the stone.

"What things? Is this the building?" Tony's expression hardened and he but his whole arm around Peter, hugging Peter to the side of his body. Peter sighed and unconsciously leant into Tony's half embrace, seeking comfort in the steady rise and fall of the man's chest.

"Well, it started with the building." Peter was beginning to calm down, the side hug from Tony was really helping; it proved to Peter that Tony was actually alive, not dying helplessly on a battlefield.

"It? What's it supposed to mean? I'm not an Idiot, Peter. I know what an anxiety attack looks like."

Peter froze. Peter knew that he was getting a panicked about the flashbacks he was getting, but 'anxiety attack' was a description he refused to give them. Saying that it's a one-off panic is better than acknowledging that you've had anxiety attacks almost daily for a whole month.

"It's-" Peter cut himself off and he realized that Tony was trying to help him, and if Tony was trying to help him it meant that he cared. He was trying to help Peter, and he was repaying Tony by attempting to lie to him, to brush him off. Peter could at least try to talk.

"I've- yeah. I wouldn't call them panic attacks though because-" Tony's eyebrows knitted together even further but his eyes only showed concern as he cut Peter off mid-sentence.

"Sorry for cutting in Pete, but _them_? You've had more than one?" Peter hid his face in Tony's neck.

"Pete…" Tony lifted his free arm and pressed it firmly against Peter's back, rubbing it slightly. Peter wrapped his arms around Tony like a vice.

"How long have you had them for?" Tony's voice was muffled slightly by Peter's curls. Peter hesitated slightly before answering, wondering if Tony would make the connection.

"A month." Peter mumbled into Tony's t-shirt, hoping half-heartedly that he wouldn't hear.

"A whole month? Kid that's… oh." Peter's hands closed into fists and he gripped the fabric of the shirt. "Is this about the battle?" Tony's voice was only concern, no pity or contempt. Something about that made a dam burst in Peter.

"N-no it wasn't the battle. I mean, it-it kind of was the battle, but not only the battle. You almost dying is in there almost all of the time. But you actually dying is- is in there all the time…" Peter stumbled over his words from talking too fast at the start but his words trailed off at the end, something in his brain putting up a blockade. Tony didn't understand at first.

"But I didn't die, Pete. I'm right here. We're in the reality where we won Pete, we did it." Tony tried to console Peter, but somehow just made him grip Tony tighter, ripping his shirt slightly.

"No. That's exactly it. You- you know how Mr. Doctor Strange saw all the possible futures?"

Tony supressed a smile when he heard the butchering of honorifics that Peter had managed to conjoin, but kept serious for Peter. Tony knew that Peter wouldn't tell him this for nothing.

"Yeah I do kiddo, but what's Strange got to do with it?" Tony was a bit concerned. Did Dr. Strange tell Peter about the other futures? The thought made him unreasonably angry. A kid shouldn't have to deal with that.

"Well… He- he wasn't the only one who…" Peter trailed off but Tony guessed at what Peter couldn't finish.

"You- you saw the futures? How?" Tony's voice was so quiet that only a certain spider-kid with super hearing would be able to hear. It was also seized with worry and had an edge that Peter was surprised to be able to hear.

"When I was in the stone. It's- my senses, I don't know how, but they let- they made me see them. I couldn't not see them, Tony! And- and in so many of them you die- and everyone dies and it's real because it could have happened! It did happen! Because it was a future that could have happened!" Peter pulled back at looked at Tony with tears in his eyes, begging him to understand. "And I didn't want to lose you after everyone else! But I did! You died and Pepper and Rhodey and I were there and I watched you d-die and there was n-nothing I c-could do! I'm sup-supposed to be Spider-man! B-but I couldn't do anything!" Peter's hiccupped sentences broke down into tears and he sobbed into Tony's shirt while Tony made quiet soothing noises and rubbed Peter's back. Tony couldn't really do anything else, he was too busy trying to process that a 15 year old kid who _died _and came back to life spent 5 years trapped in a stone watching every possible outcome of the battle against Thanos. He remembered something from 5 years ago, a brief exchange.

"_How many do we win?"_

"_One."_

Tony guessed that they were in the one that Dr. Strange considered winning, because in all other ones he had died. And Peter had watched that. 14,000,605 times.

Tony realised that Peter had stopped sobbing. He had stopped moving entirely, actually. Frozen with panic for a second and thinking that Peter died or something, he frantically grabbed Peter's wrist and checked his pulse. Yep, still alive, just passed out. The movement wasn't enough to wake Peter, so Tony moved him gently so he was lying down on the couch. Tony placed a throw pillow under Peter's head and pulled a blanket up over his shoulders. Sighing, Tony turned and walked out of the living room into the kitchen, he whispered: "FRI, soundproof the living room and mute alarms in there." Tony ran a hand down his face and turned to see Michelle standing next to the fridge holding a glass of water.

MJ's face was pale and her mouth was half-open in shock. The ice cubes she had put in the water were tiny, like they had been melting for a while.

"How much did you hear?" Tony immediately went on defensive mode, but he had no clue as to what to do next. If the girl heard any of the conversation then she'd probably figure it out pretty quick, Peter told him that she was very observant. MJ swallowed and stared Tony down.

"Enough." There was a fire in her eyes that Tony was a little weary to see there.

"Enough? What does that mean?" Tony tried to sound gentle with her, but that was an obvious mistake.

"Well _Mr. Stark_ it means that I heard the whole damn thing! Who do you think you are to take a 15 year old with _anxiety_ out to a battle in space to fight Thanos huh?"

Tony flinched at the name but it just seemed to set MJ of even more.

"And he's fucking Spider-man too! I already knew that but Jesus Christ isn't the weight of thinking you're responsible for the crime rate of an entire area enough for a 15 year old to handle?" The water spilt out of the glass as she almost threw it across the room. Michelle didn't give it a second look. Tony was shocked. "Peter thinks he's responsible for the whole of Queens?"

"Yeah he does! But is that enough for him to handle? No apparently not! So now he's had the possible outcomes of a million futures play though his mind! Do you know how he's doing at school? Huh? He gets panic attacks every single day! Once he even fucking started asking for you! Begging for his 'dad'! You know he called you dad?" Michelle seemed to trail off and looked like she thought she'd said too much.

Tony went pale. Peter had asked for him?

"_You know he called you dad?"_

The thought of Peter calling him dad warmed his chest. But he had more pressing things to think about, mainly the scarily angry 16 year old girl standing in front of him.

"Michelle…" Tony looked directly into the girl's eyes, trying to convey some sort of sincerity, "I really care about Peter and I want to help him through this. However, I won't be able to do that if I've been stabbed through the heart with a broken glass by an angry 16 year old girl."

Michelle looked down at the glass in her hand and the water all over the floor and seemed to realize something.

"Oh. Yeah sorry about that." She placed the glass on the counter and turned to face Tony, prodding him in the chest.

"You better look after him, Stark, because I care about him too." She swiped at something in her eye and then walked into the elevator without a second glance back.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter woke to find himself lying on something that was not his bed. He guessed that he must have fallen asleep on the couch watching movies again. That didn't account for the thing that his head was resting on, though. It felt like someone's legs, but if he was at home, whose legs were they? May was working a late shift today, so it couldn't be her. Then who was it? Thinking kind of made his head hurt a little bit, so Peter scrunched up his eyes and tried to return to the murky depths of sleep.

A hand carded through his hair and the fingertips lightly brushed his scalp. That was nice. He liked those hands, they made him feel safe. He snuggled further into this person's hand, and they let out a small laugh. Their hand stilled in Peter's hair and their thumb made small, affectionate circles on Peter's temple. Peter smiled and his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey there, kiddo." Tony's voice was quiet but it still hurt Peter's head. He scrunched up his eyes and curled in on himself, groaning.

"Don' like that."

Tony's face dropped and he quickly removed his hand from Peter's hair. Peter frowned at the absence of heat.

"N' not that. Soun's" Peter squirmed a bit. Why was it so warm in here? Tony's hand pressed against his forehead firmly and then returned to making small brushing motions in Peter's hair. In his other hand, he picked up his and Peter's phone. Tony gently placed Peter's phone in his hands and then fiddled with his own for a second. The screen of Peter's samsung lit up.

_Tony Stark: That fall really did a number on your head, Pete. There's a big lump and you're running a high temperature. How are you feeling?_

_Peter Parker: Not very good, Mr. Stark. Head hurts. _

_Tony Stark: Yeah, that's great. I'm going to get you some water._

Tony made to move Peter's head off his lap so he could stand, but Peter grabbed his wrist and held him there.

"Don' go." Peter's words were slurred with fatigue but they still melted Tony's heart a bit.

"I'm not going anywhere, bud. Just going a few meters to get you some water. I'm right here."

Tony tried to whisper as quietly as possible so Peter wouldn't feel any discomfort. Tony squeezed Peter's hand and slowly got up to fetch some water from the kitchen. He removed the med kit from the top shelf of the cabinet and pulled out some fever medicine. Tony hesitated. Would it work on Peter with his enhanced metabolism? Only one way to find out.

Tony quietly made his way back to where Peter was half-lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling. Peter took the water and tablets without complaint and promptly chugged all the water.

"Woah there, Pete, you don't want to choke." Tony tried to hide his concern under the joke. Peter usually complained at having to swallow tablets as he preferred the chewable ones.

Peter shrugged and then stood up alarmingly quickly. Peter's eyes screwed shut and he clutched at his head as he stumbled a bit. Tony ran forward to steady him, placing his hands firmly on Peter's arms. Tony felt Peter's hair standing on end under his hands.

"Peter? What-"

"Something's wrong." Peter cut Tony off and grabbed Tony's waist, eyes wide.

"Something's very wrong, Tony." Tony smiled a bit at Peter actually using his name, which he seemed to be making more of an effort to do nowadays; but if Peter said something was wrong, something was wrong.

"Alright, Pete. What is it? Do we need to set off the alarm?"

"No it's- I don't know. It's not a threat but..." Peter trailed off. "FRIDAY, turn on the TV to the news channel please." Peter had a scared look in his eyes that Tony hated to see there. It was chillingly similar to the way that Peter had looked at him while he was turning to ash.

They waited in silence for a minute, Tony standing still while Peter rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet. The TV suddenly went from relaying the events of a music festival to a breaking-news feed of a tram going through a red light and crashing into a car.

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**A/N: Hey! Sorry for being late - I'm trying to stick to posting weekly about every sunday, which for america I think is saturday? Also this chapter is a bit short because if I didn't break it up it would be so long! **

**Please tell me your thoughts or ideas for the plots below! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: hello again! I'm sorry for such the long absence from this story, but I honestly had no idea what to write for this chapter! I hope it's not too bad. Hopefully I'll be able to overcome my writer's block because this story is going to take a _turn. _haha :)**

**Also: 1,000 views! Thank you guys so much!**

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Tony watched the tram hit the white car on the screen. He didn't have any connection to the car or the tram, but it was pretty obvious that Peter did. Tony grasped the boy's arm slightly more firmly to make sure he didn't try to make a break for it, but Peter was much stronger than Tony, he would be able to break his grip in an instant. Tony gestured to mute the TV.

"Peter tell me what's happening." Tony tried to calm the shaking teenager by rubbing his arm slightly. Peter mumbled something, eyes still locked on the screen.

"Sorry, Pete, you're gonna have to speak a little louder." Peter stopped staring at the screen and turned to Tony, pupils dilated in fear.

"That's my aunt's car," Peter's voice was cracked and he leant against Tony. "May was in that car." Peter rested his head on Tony's shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist.

Tony absentmindedly put his hand on Peter's head, fingers stroking the soft curls. Tony tried to figure out how this situation would turn out. He knew that May would want Tony to keep Peter while she recovered in the hospital, but what if May… No. May would recover and Peter wouldn't lose any more family members. Tony would make sure of that. Okay, but what would he do _now_? Tony was a hundred percent sure that if he didn't continue to keep Peter near his side, he would run off to the wreck and pull May out himself. Not good. So Tony did just that.

"Pete, I know you want to make sure she's okay, but there's not really much we can do right now besides wait." Tony really didn't want to make the sad look in Peter's eyes grow anymore, but it did. Peter flopped back down onto the couch and covered his face with his hands.

"This is just like before." Peter whispered. Tony sat down on the couch next to Peter and put an arm around him. Peter had that familiar scent of fabric softener and spearmint. Tony pulled him in closer.

"When my parents… when they died, it was on the news." Peter dropped his hands in his lap and stared at them. "I watched them report a plane crash while sitting in the police station."

"Peter," Tony rubbed Peter's shoulder. "May's not dead." Tony smiled when Peter looked up, eyes wide with hope.

"How do you know that?" The hope was replaced with doubt.

"Look at the TV." Both Tony and Peter turned to the TV again, where the headline was: '_One injured in car wreck._' Peter breathed out a sigh he didn't realise he was holding, Tony watched tears of relief run down his cheeks.

"FRI, unmute the TV please."

"-here in a car wreck in Queens where a tram has crashed into a car. Thankfully, only one person was injured. They are currently being moved to Queens memorial in an unstable condition-" The news reporter was cut off as Tony shut of the TV again.

Tony chewed the inside of his cheek and grimaced. _Unstable condition_. Tony turned to Peter, who was watching the screen with weary eyes, rocking from one foot to the other.

"Mr. St- Tony," Peter began hesitantly, relaxing a bit when he saw Tony's gentle smile. "Why would they show it on the news before calling me?" Peter's eyes went a little wider.

"You don't think-" Peter was cut off by the slightly muffled chiming of someone's ringtone.

Tony reached for his phone, as he was usually the one who got phone calls, but he subconsciously knew that his phone wasn't ringing. His suspicions were only confirmed by the dark screen of his phone. Tony turned to see Peter standing with his back to the TV, holding his own phone. Peter was staring down at his screen, eyes focused on the 'unknown number' ID. He made no move to answer the call. Tony moved towards Peter, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Tony felt the teenager take a deep breath before answering the call.

"Hello?" Peter's voice was quiet under the strain.

"Is this Peter Parker?" The slightly tinny voice of a woman sounded through the speaker.

"Yes. I'm- uh, Peter Parker."

"We regret to inform you that your guardian, May Parker, has been in a serious car accident and is currently in surgery. It's urgent that you come to Queens memorial hospital immediately." The woman's vaguely exhausted voice issued from the phone. "We apologize for the delay in notifying you, as we are very busy today. Thankyou."

"Uh… Th- thanks." Peter muttered into the receiver but the woman had already hung up. The room was filled with a quiet hang up tone.

"Tony," Peter dropped the phone on the couch. "Could you- could you take me to the hospital please?" He pulled away slightly so he could look at Tony's face.

"Of course, Pete." Tony replied without having to think about it, but was slightly disconcerted by the relieved expression on Peter's face. "Did you think I wouldn't take you?"

The slight shame on Peter's face was all the answer he needed.

"I- I know that you're busy and everything so-"

"Pete look at me," Peter looked up at is face from where he was previously staring at the ground. "You are more important than anything I have to do, and May is my friend too, okay? I care about both of you." Tony stared fondly at the slightly stunned look on Peter's face before patting his shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

They walked down to the elevator and stepped inside. The silence between them wasn't tense, but slightly uncomfortable. As they went down the floors, a thought struck Tony. If Peter didn't readily believe that Tony would be willing to give him a ride to a _hospital _for god's sake, how would he react to living in his _house_? Maybe that's why Peter currently wouldn't meet his eyes. They stepped out of the elevator into the basement where the cars were kept, Peter a little more vigorously. Tony remembered that riding in elevators made him anxious.

"You alright, Pete?" Peter was leaning against a wall.

"Yeah I'm fine, Mr Stark." Peter pushed off the wall and walked uncertainly over to Tony, who was a few steps away from his most inconspicuous car. Tony noted the use of his last name. He would have put it down to Peter worrying about his aunt, but something told him that was only part of it. Tony slid into the driver's seat of the Audi while Peter went to get in the back.

"Peter, you know you can sit in the front, right?" Tony turned in his seat to glance at him.

"Uh, yeah. Of course." Peter mumbled as he turned and got in the front next to Tony.

"Peter I'm sure she's fine." Tony side-eyed Peter as he said this, searching for a reaction.

Peter seemed to deflate a little.

"But what if she's not?" Peter sounded so small and _young_. Like that 14 year old he had met almost three years ago.

"She will be. I promise." Tony's lips pressed together slightly at the promise that he may not be able to keep.

"You promise?" His words were hopeful, like whatever Tony said would come true.

"Yeah. I do." Tony reached over and ruffled Peter's hair as they pulled out of the garage.

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**Thank you for reading! ~ Leave a review or suggestion to make my day :) ~**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hello again! I'm so so so so sorry for my absence from this story (and my other two for that matter), I've had a lot of assignments and tests over the past few weeks! I hope you can all forgive me for how short all these chapters are, I'd write more if I had the time :(**

**Also, 2,000 views?! 55 followers?! Y'all are making me cry thank you all so much!**

**Anyway, enjoy the story! :)**

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Peter felt kind of... _off_. Before, they were driving and everything was fine, but then they got to a tunnel and then his senses just... were there. It was weird. Usually his senses were a sharp spike of alarm, but here they were sort of a constant underlying buzz. It made Peter uncomfortable, but he but it down to May. He couldn't really think of what else it could be, besides that. So he and Tony rode along to the hospital. They made it in record time, seeing as there was very little traffic on the road. Strange. Peter shifted in his seat a bit. Something was wrong.

May is in hospital. His brain reminded him. Yeah. That was it.

Tony pulled into the visitor parking lot and found a free spot almost immediately.

"Huh, it's pretty empty today." Tony arched his eyebrow a little and turned to Peter, who didn't really notice and continued staring at where his hands were twisted in his lap.

"Pete?" Peter jumped and his head shot up to look at Tony.

"Sorry." Peter mumbled.

"Hey, no saying the S word, okay? This isn't your fault." Tony smoothed Peter's hair down and Peter laughed a bit.

"Okay." Tony put his hand on the car door and went to get out, but Peter grabbed his arm. "Uh- can we be careful?"

Tony looked at Peter. "What do you mean?"

Peter glanced around as if checking for people, which didn't have any point because there was still nobody around.

"There's something… wrong." Peter whispered.

"Is it your head? Are you feeling sick still?" Tony turned in his seat and pressed his hand against Peter's forehead. He knew he should have gave Peter another flu tablet or something before they left.

Peter batted his hand off. "Well, yeah, but no." Peter bit his lip. He did feel a bit light-headed, but that wasn't the point. "It's my senses. They're like, um, there? Usually it's just a burst but right now it's like… lowkey kinda always there."

Tony studied the teen. Peter seemed a hundred percent serious, and then there was his nervous actions. Peter was constantly looking out the window and chewing on his lip. Tony picked up on these things and sighed.

"Alright, Pete. If you sense anything weird then we..." Tony wasn't actually sure what Peter wanted to do.

"Book it?" Peter suggested. This made Tony's gut twist ominously. May was in hospital, Tony assumed that Peter wouldn't stop trying to reach her for love nor money, so Peter's willingness to leave made Tony put a bit more faith in Peter's senses.

"Yeah. Alright let's go."

The pair hopped out of the car and started walking towards the looming hospital in front of them. Tony walked a little bit closer to Peter than necessary, but Peter gratefully gravitated towards him until he was practically hanging of Tony's arm. Peter shook his head a little, as to clear something. It was weird, his hearing was picking up on some sounds. They were like tiny wings flapping. He couldn't hear the sound when they were in the car, but as soon as they stepped out there was the sound.

"Can you hear that?" Peter looked around for the source of the whirring noise and found nothing. Tony stopped walking and went quiet, tilting his head to the left slightly.

"No, what am I listening for?" Peter's mouth pressed into a line, and he seemed to backtrack.

"No it's fine, I'm being silly. Probably just my hearing being weird." Tony stared at him unconvinced. "Because I'm sick."

"Mhmm." Tony's mouth pinched to the side and he arched his eyebrow again. Classic. They started walking again.

The hospital's reception was neat and meticulously clean, and they must have had renovations recently because the layout was slightly different to the one that Peter could vaguely recall from the back of his memory. The receptionist greeted them with a slightly strained smile.

"Mr Parker. It's nice to see you." The woman had the same voice as the one that had called him earlier.

"Uh, how did you know it was me?" Peter studied the receptionist and saw the slight discomfort on her face when he had said that. She stared at him for a second too long.

"Records. You've been here before, sweetie." She smiled again, now it was starting to look slightly creepy. It was true, though. When Peter was sick he had gone to see a doctor here.

"May Parker is up two floors to the left in ward 3B. You have my condolences." The woman smiled her weird smile again and turned to her computer screen.

"Thank… you?" Peter was fairly sure that receptionists were supposed to ask for identity or something; or just _more_ questions, but whatever. _He could see May_.

Peter turned to where Tony was waiting a few steps back and kinda jerked his head back towards the woman. Tony smiled and shook his head slightly. Peter could almost hear him saying: _Don't sweat it, kid_. They fell into step beside each other and walked towards the elevator that was situated just to the left of the receptionist's desk.

There was a squat man standing just to the left of the door, obviously waiting for the elevator. The badge on his slightly dirty uniform read: 'janitor.'

Once the janitor caught sight of them, he pressed the up button on the elevator and gave them a toothless smile. _Why on earth would that guy be waiting by the elevator without having already pushed the button? _This place was seriously giving Peter the creeps.

The elevator door opened and Tony walked in, Peter close behind. The janitor also followed them in, taking a few seconds to fiddle with the comm unit he had pinned to his shirt. Tony and Peter stood towards the left side of the elevator. Peter got the feeling that Tony also felt some kinda vibe from the janitor and was standing as far away from him as possible. Tony had a firm grip on his shoulder when the elevator jerked to a stop and the lights flickered out.

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**Sorry for the cliffhanger (if you'd call that one)! Also, if you guys are picking up what I'm putting down, then I think it's safe to say that the ****villain**** in this story is still Q****uentin**** Beck, as it's set after Far From Home. Love you all!**

** ~ Please leave a note or suggestion to make my day! (it makes me really happy oof) ~**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: First off, I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING. I've had a lot of stuff going on which has taken up a lot of my time, and I'm writing this as I go so I don't have chapters cued up, which I should probably do. For instance, I wrote 90% of this chapter in the past 2 hours. Good going, me. Also, one of you suggested I keep the swearing to a minimum, and I'm sorry if the first chapter made you uncomfortable. I'm gonna try and control myself this time round oof. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! :)**

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Everything was completely black. No input. There was no noise, no light, nothing to hold on to besides the ground underneath his feet. Wait. The ground. A green mist hovered around Tony's feet, but the mist was strangely weightless. It didn't have the cold wet feel of normal mist. It didn't feel like the mist was really there at all. There was something else though, that was much more important than the slightly disconcerting mist, which was the fact that he couldn't find Peter. Tony remembered the elevator jumping to a stop, and Peter must have stumbled and fallen, because his shoulder had been wrenched from his hold. From the side. _From the side. _Peter hadn't fallen. Someone had grabbed him. _No._

Tony began to move hastily through the darkness, but it seemed to go on forever. He turned and stumbled in a straight line in the opposite direction. Nothing. Well, almost nothing. into he crashed into a solid stretch of… air? Tony reached out and rested a hand against the smooth surface that wasn't there. It definitely felt like concrete, he could feel the otherwise cold wall being interrupted by little grooves and holes. _But he couldn't see it_. Tony moved left, keeping his hand pressed against the wall to guide him.

"Peter?" Tony's voice came out hushed, but he felt that if he shouted it wouldn't make a difference. His words echoed slightly around him, giving him the clue that he was in a large room of some sort. "Peter!" Tony tried again, to no avail. The only forthcoming sound was his own scared voice. Huh. It was funny, because he was scared. Not for himself, but for Peter.

Peter, who he had already lost once, and Tony was determined not to lose him again. He kept moving forwards, hand tracing the concrete to his right, until he walked face first into another wall. Hand reaching up to press against his nose to attempt to stop the blood that had began to drip down his face, Tony inspected the new wall. Concrete, just like the other. He was definitely not in an elevator. After tracing that wall too, only to come to another corner, Tony gave up.

Tony leant against the wall and tried to think of a way out of this; whatever _this_ was. He was in a large room with concrete walls. His guess a warehouse or a disused building, maybe a basement. FRIDAY was offline. He had already tried to activate her on the watch with "special properties", he had told Pepper. The only things he could see were the unsettling green mist at his feet, and his own hands. Peter was missing. Tony took a sharp intake of air through his nose. From all this, Tony deduced that he had been lured here. _Through Peter_. Tony slid down to sit on the ground, also concrete, and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. Whoever set this trap knew Tony's connection to Peter, and most likely that he would do anything to protect the people he loved. That explained Peter's involvement, but what did they _want_? Tony removed his face from his hands and looked up into what he was fairly sure was the ceiling. He wasn't sure what was affecting his vision, maybe they had somehow gotten hallucinogens into his system, but he was sure he was being monitored.

"Hey, I'd like to hurry this up," Tony shouted into the void, "So what do you want?"

From previous experience, Tony had learnt not to beat around the bush in these situations. Tony waited to a wall of silence, hoping that they were actually monitoring him, not just locked him in a basement somewhere to starve to death. His wishes were granted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from somewhere to his left. Tony struggled up to face the sound of the foot falls meeting the concrete, but still finding nothing in the darkness. He could sense someone standing in front of him. The close sound of breathing, the warmth, the feeling of eyes staring alerted him of the person's proximity. Suddenly, the person appeared. He had brown hair, blue eyes, something of a slightly scruffy beard. He was also taller than Tony, but then again most people were. The man was smiling slightly, but it wasn't welcoming.

"Hello, Stark." The man's smile grew wider, triumphant, and much like the other employees of the "hospital" that he and Peter… _Peter_.

"Where's Peter." It wasn't a question, more like a _tell me this right now or I will destroy your bloodline _statement. The man just laughed.

"Oh, Peter?" The man took a step forward to make sure Tony could see the mirth in his eyes. "You don't have to worry about him." The man giggled, almost drunkenly. "Actually, who am I kidding? You should be very worried about him." The man's tone changed from amused to deadly serious between the who sentences. It seemed slightly familiar, like he had met this person before. He pushed the spike of ice that had seemed to shoot through his chest away. To save Peter from his man he needed to know who he was, first.

"Who. Are. You." Tony tried to put as much loathing as physically possible in his glare. The patronizing way the man laughed at every single thing he said was starting to get annoying.

"Oh, you don't remember me, Stark? I-" He pauses for a second. "-Am Quentin Beck." _Oh, him_.

Quentin Beck. The lunatic he had fired personally from Stark Industries for being… a lunatic. Oh he remembered him, alright. With his work on the Binary Augmented Retro-Framing project. Wait. _Projections_. Tony eyes narrowed at the weightless green mist that hid the ground, the neverending void, how Beck had seemingly popped into existence right in front of his eyes.

"Projections." Tony folded his arms over chest. Beck raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you're very right. In fact, I'm not even here. So if you were planning on attacking me, don't waste your energy." Even though Tony had figured out Beck's biggest advantage over him, Beck didn't seem fazed. The projection of beck made a hand gesture, and the blackness disappeared. He _was _in a warehouse. Tony quickly took in his surroundings, trying to see if there was a way out of the concrete prison, but Beck's words interrupted him.

"You know that what you're seeing is fake," Beck turned to walk away, but glanced over his shoulder. "But Peter doesn't." And the hologram was gone.

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**I hope y'all aren't too attached to Peter's mental health state :))))))**

**~ Please leave a review or suggestion to make my day! (It really helps me write oof)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Just before you get reading...**

**To all of you who are still even bothering to read this at this stage, when I barely update and honestly the storyline isn't that good, Thank you. If I'm being honest, I would've given up reading this months ago, but if you're reading this now, I want to say from the bottom from my heart, Thank you so much. **

**And superduper special thanks to Shian1998 for making me cry bc they were so nice :''''))**

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Peter woke slowly to the sharp pricking of his arm, which was pinned under him by his own body. Groaning, Peter rolled over, trying to free his arm from the highly uncomfortable sensation, and was greeted by hitting the threadbare carpet of the floor.

Swearing under his breath, Peter sat up and rubbed his shoulder, which had taken most of the impact. From what he could tell, Peter was in a small and simple room. He wouldn't call it a bedroom of any sort, as it was lacking... a bed. And anything else that he would describe as even beginning to be welcoming. Boring beige-grey carpet that scratched more than cushioned. White popcorned cement walls and ceiling. One tiny window. An old floral patterned couch, which was all but falling apart at the seams.

Peter immediately tried to stand up and assess the window, but was hit by a wave of nausea, followed by his vision almost going black.

"Ok, ok not that." Peter mumbled softly to himself, rubbing a hand over his face until he regained control over his eyesight again. Peter stood again, this time with extra care. He slowly walked to the window, glancing around at the ceiling corners. Peter couldn't help but feeling like he was being watched.

Up close, Peter noticed the window had thick metal-looking bars running along the window on both the inside and outside. Peter wrapped a cautious hand around a bar, and gave a half-hearted tug. Nothing, which was to be expected. Peter put both of his hands on the offending pole, and actually tried to pull if off. It creaked, but didn't budge. Peter blinked at the bars. What the hell? He could stop a speeding bus with his bare hands but couldn't bend a simple bar?

"c'mon," peter tugged at the bars again, still to no avail. Peter scrunched his face up at the unmoving bars, but then felt a bout of dizziness swoop over him. Peter pressed his back to the spiky wall and slid down to sit on the floor. He could feel the cement scratch his back through his shirt, but he didn't have the energy to care. Peter bent his legs close to his chest and hugged them, resting his head on his knees. He tried very hard not to throw up. Instead, he stared at the design on his shirt while he thought. What was wrong with him? How did he get here? Where was Tony? He could answer some of those.

One being he was still sick. Peter had absolutely no clue on what he was sick with, because it seemed to have every non-physical symptom... ever? It was like a head cold but on steroids. Really, the very fact that he was sick was unnerving, because Peter hadn't been sick once since the bite.

But then how did he get here? Thinking back, he and Tony were going to see May in the hospital. May! He had forgotten all about May. Guilt pressed down on his chest until he realized that due to the events in the past 24 hours... he might be compelled to think that May hadn't even been in that car crash in the first place. He still had no clue where he was, though.

Peter could remember getting into the elevator with Tony and the creepy janitor guy, then the elevator broke down. Then someone grabbed his shoulder and started dragging him somewhere. But then... then he had felt something over his mouth and then... nothing. Waking up on that god forbidden couch. But then where was Tony? Hadn't he been in the elevator with him? Had they got him too? Peter frowned at his knees. He needed to get out of this... hospital room?

It didn't look or feel like a hospital room at all. Then something hit him. How on earth did that person drag him anywhere when they were in a completely confined space such as the elevator? Peter stood up, using one hand on the wall to steady himself, the other pressed against his forehead. Peter did what he should have done in the first place, look out the damn window. Nothing. He couldn't see anything beyond the rusted bars keeping him captive. Just pitch black. Peter rubbed his eyes and looked again. Void. He backed away from the window, eventually having his knees hit the couch. Peter sat down on said couch, not taking his eyes off the void outside the window.

Unless they had something covering the window which absorbed all light, which was highly unlikely as he was currently not on a black hole, all of this was fake. Peter didn't like that. His breaths were halted as he did a slow circle of the room, memorizing ever detail. Some things he noticed that he hadn't before. One thing was the fact that there wasn't a door. Well, there wasn't a door handle. There had to be a door, right?

While Peter moved along the windowless wall, searching for an opening or something like a indent, he happened to glance towards the window. He could see something outside. Peter stumbled slightly in his attempt at getting back to the window, and when his eyes left the ground, it had changed again. The bars were covering his only exit into the nothingness. Peter stared helplessly at the window. He squeezed his eyes closed as tight as they would go, waited a few moments, then opened them again. The blackness hadn't left.

Sighing in frustration, Peter sprawled himself onto the couch. What the hell was happening to him? His best guess would be hallucinogenic drugs, which seemed like a pretty sound explanation to Peter. Maybe he could sleep them off. Peter settled into the couch, pleased to find that it only creaked a little bit.

But the truth was, Peter should have never let his guard down in a place where anything could happen.

After what seemed like only minutes to Peter, he was shaken awake.

"Peter! Kid, wake up!" The hand gripping his arm shook him again. Peter opened his eyes into a squint.

"Mr Stark?"

"Peter!" Tony leant back onto his knees and shielded his eyes from the unbroken light streaming in through the window. "We have to go. Now." Peter struggled up into a sitting position before swinging his legs off the couch. He felt somewhat better than before, but his senses were still nagging at him. Like they had when they had gotten out of the car earlier. Yesterday? If possible, Peter felt even less rested than he had been before. Tony grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Weirdly, his hands felt different, like shaped slightly off. Peter didn't really have time to think about it, because he was being pulled out of the room. He pulled his hand casually out of Tony's grip, but he didn't even look back. Peter frowned.

"Where are we going?" Peter questioned when they slowed down.

"We need to get out of this hospital," Tony glanced at the multiple signs that pointed to parts of the hospital. They continued down a corridor after a sign that was marked as elevator. But that was when Peter head them. The heavy thumps of footsteps running towards them from behind.

"C'mon Peter let's go!" Tony urged. They started running, racing around corners. Peter didn't understand why Tony would race ahead at times, only remembering that Peter was there after a few moments, glancing around at him almost... annoyed. Peter tried to speed up but he just couldn't, and they were gaining on them, and he was slowing Tony down. Tony stopped suddenly, and Peter practically ran into him.

"Watch it, will ya?" Tony all but spat at him. Peter walked back a few steps, shocked. Why was Tony being so mean? He pressed his mouth into a line and stared at the ground. He was definitely not about to cry.

"This way." Tony jerked his head to the left and began running again. But it was too late. Their moment of hesitation hindered them more than helped them, because the footsteps had caught up to them. A gunshot echoed through the sterile corridor. Peter didn't know what happened, but one moment he was running and the other moment he was lying on the ground, clutching his shoulder. It really hurt.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter called out, his voice weak. Tony turned around and stared down at him, his face full of disdain. "Tony?" Peter could feel the tears in his eyes. Tony looked different. Like not himself. Not-Tony had brown messy hair and an unkempt beard, blue eyes that held none of Tony's warmth. Peter's vision filled with the loathing smile of Not-Tony switching back and forth between his real mentor and himself.

"Please help," Peter began to try and push himself up, but Not-Tony pressed his shoe against Peter's injured shoulder, making him cry out in pain. Not-Tony looked like Tony now. He couldn't tell the difference. Peter was crying.

"What-" Peter softly tried to ask why Tony was doing this, what he had done wrong, but he was interrupted.

"Peter." Tony leant down towards him, putting more weight on Peter's shoulder. His senses were screaming at him. "Why do you think I'm doing this?" Tony's voice was so unlike his normal, gentle tone that he had used yesterday. Peter managed to shake his head slightly through his tears.

"You're worthless," Tony pushed down harder, his shoe digging into the wound. Peter gasped from the pain. "You're lazy, you're a drag, you're a waste. Of. Time." Tony punctuated each sentence by pressing into Peter's shoulder. Peter was too busy focusing on the words Tony was spitting at him to notice. The words hurt more. Is that what Tony really thought of him? Did he really hate him that much?

"N-no." Peter was full on sobbing now, he suddenly couldn't get enough air into his lungs. Tony leant back, took his foot off him, and looked at Peter with disgust.

"I don't care about you." Tony sneered at him, and took off. Peter didn't even watch Tony walk away, he was busy curling up in a ball and trying to breathe through his sobs. Tony was right. Peter was worthless, lazy, he was a waste of space. Peter cried harder. How did Tony put up with him for so long? Maybe he was just too pitying of him to tell him the truth. Well, he wouldn't be a bother now. We was stuck in this hospital, alone.

Peter's crying eventually died down into quiet tears. Something was off. The dander was gone. Tony had left him. But he still felt a pull of something. Briefly, Peter registered a buzzing sound. That was before he felt a jab in his arm. Peter was mesmerized by the feeling of icy liquid leaching out into his arm, or at least he was until he immediately passed out.

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**Let me explain myself...**

**This took ages to publish, as both you and I are painfully aware of. Firstly, I am a dumbass and I don't plan things. This means that once I finish writing something, I publish it ****immediately****. I don't even bother editing it, which is why this entire story is full of errors. That kinda explains the long absences I take from writing (I'm also a huge procrastinator), but this one in particular, oh boy. Firstly, the first version of this chapter was saved on a word doc on my laptop, which by the way, is still on Windows 7. I lost the file. Then halfway through re-writing _that _version, my computer straight up died. I can't find a new battery for it anywhere, because the model is so old that they don't sell it anymore. Oof. Then I got frustrated and gave up. Then three days ago, I had a streak on inspiration and started re-****writing**** this whole chapter, on my phone. Not very epic at all. Also, I tried to make this chapter a bit longer than I usually make them.**

**TL;DR: I'm an idiot, don't have a computer now, and I am now writing this from my phone. :(**

**Also I*** if you're reading this, kindly get out :)****  
**

**ONE LAST THING: I want to change the title of this from Sweet and _Salty_ to Sweet and _Sour. _Unless you hate that name with a burning passion, I'm probably going to change it within the next few days. Love you all! **

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Please leave a review below, and any suggestions you want to see included below! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: heeyyyyyy guyyys I think I'm late with this chapter, and it's a real doozy. After I finished it I definitely did not immediately almost cry. I wouldn't be suprised if some of you wanted to punch me after this chapter! Feel free to actually punch me, also. It might make me work faster. Enjoy the chapter! ;)))))))))))**

Tony paced around the same corner of the warehouse, as far away from the door as possible. It had been a few hours since Beck had come to tease him, or at least he thought it had been.

He felt restless. A ball of dread had settled in his chest, just to the right of his heart. He couldn't not think about Peter. Why the hell did Beck want to torture his kid? The kid. Not his. Whatever. The answer was obvious, anyway. Beck wanted to hurt Peter so he could persuade Tony into giving him what he wanted. Been there, done that. But if that was the case, why was it taking so long? Usually by now they would have done something.

Tony glanced at the door for the 50th time in the last 47 minutes. It had appeared after Beck's projection had lifted, but then again, had it really? The door still may not be real. He had only been here for a couple of hours and he already couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. He didn't want to imagine what state Peter was in. Tony hated how he couldn't do anything to get either of them out of here, they were completely at Beck's mercy. Which, of course, Tony wasn't sure if he even had. Beck was a madman.

Tony had seen it first-hand, fired him personally. After what had happened with the first lunatic, Tony couldn't spare the willpower to deal with anymore. Tony kept pacing until his feet got sore enough to drop off. It was dark outside, but Tony couldn't sleep. Sure, he was tired, but he was always tired. He had to stay awake, for the kid's sake. So Tony leant against the wall, and stared at the door.

Occasionally, Tony thought he may have seen something flicker at the edge of his vision. But no matter how fast he snapped his head around to look, it was ordinary. The greys were frustratingly uniform.

Time seemed to move weirdly in this prison. One moment it feels like you've been waiting for hours, the next only for mere seconds. It really messed with Tony's head. He wanted to get out of here, for something to happen that could help him. But of course, no matter how hard he wished or begged whatever gods were up there, nothing. Tony was seriously considering banging his head against the wall when the doors flew open. It was bizarre.

Beck, dressed in what looked like some green-screen suit or something, surrounded by a flock of drones. The drones followed Beck from where he was jogging forwards, enclosing another person. Peter! Tony made to shout his name, but Beck shot a glance at him and smiled, shaking his head. Tony shut up immediately. One of the drones excused itself from the pack and drifted ominously over to where Tony was standing. It did something, then he looked up.

He could see what Peter was seeing.

Peter and Beck were running through hallways that weren't there, but what hurt

him more than the confused and terrified expression that adorned Peter's face, it was that Beck was making himself look like him. Shit. Tony started running after them, following the holographic path of the corridors, trying his best to catch up with Peter. His own drone followed him. Tony wasn't completely in the simulation, but he could still see where Peter was, and he was gaining on him. He didn't know what he would do when he got to him, though. Whatever. Act first think later, right?

Tony watched as Peter glanced behind him, and he could make out the plain fear in the kid's eyes. Jesus, what had Beck told him? Tony realized that Beck had stopped in his tracks, and Peter had almost bumped into him. He ran faster. He watched Beck spin around to shout at him, he saw the pain and hurt on Peter's face. Almost there.

"This way." Beck pretty much spat at Peter. They started running down the left corridor, but then he heard his drone fire. It hit Peter, and he cried out, stumbling and falling. Tony was within steps of him, he could reach out and help Peter up, but Beck saw him step forward, and shook his head again. His smile was starting to get annoying. One day he'd wipe it off his face himself. The drone that had shot Peter had now turned to him. Up close it was poorly assembled, but it had a weapon, so Tony wasn't able to try anything without being blown to bits. He was forced to watch, still as a statue, as Beck tormented his kid.

"Mr. Stark?" God, Peter sounded so _young_. Peter's expression was so painful to look at, Tony couldn't stand to see his kid like that. Beck turned and scoffed at Peter, still making himself look like Tony. Peter wouldn't ever think he would just ignore him like that, right? But it got worse.

"Tony?" Peter's broken voice made Tony want to run up to him and hug him so hard that his bones cracked, and tell him that was going to be alright, but he could still hear the drone whirring over his shoulder. Tony opted to sink down to Peter's level, reaching out to him but not touching. He got the feeling that Peter couldn't see him.

Tony looked up, and saw Beck's facade flickering. He didn't know if this was on purpose, but it was scaring Peter. God, he wanted to break every bone in Beck's body.

"Please help." Peter said in a small voice, like he thought Beck was going to squash him instead. Maybe it was because Beck had gone back to looking like Tony again, and that he could win the award for most loathing expression in the history of mankind.

Tony tensed when Beck casually strolled towards Peter, but instead of helping him up, he dug a foot into Peter's shoulder, putting his weight into it. Tony heard Peter cry out in pain, and it took almost all he had not to try and push Beck off him.

"What-" Peter started but was cut off by Beck, leaning on Peter's injured shoulder even more. Peter gasped in pain, and Tony saw tears streaming down his cheeks.

Something inside of him broke.

"Peter..." Tony whispered, sitting as close to him as possible, trying to give some comfort, _anything _to Peter, but he couldn't. Peter was suffering, and Tony was right there, yet he couldn't do anything about it.

"Peter." Beck leant forwards again, and Beck's voice was so unlike his own that Tony begged that Peter didn't believe that it was really him. "Why do you think I'm doing this?" Peter barely covered up a sob, and shook his head violently.

"You're worthless," No. Beck couldn't go down that path. That would destroy Peter. But he guessed that was Beck's twisted point. And Tony couldn't stop him. He had to watch his kid fall apart at what he thought were _Tony's_ words, and it was tearing him up from the inside.

"You're lazy, you're a drag, you're a waste. Of. Time." Tony could see Beck's boot becoming soaked in red. In Peter's blood. Tony clenched his fists so hard that his fingernails made his palm bruise.

"N-no!" Peter was crying full on now, Tony could see him trying to breathe, the beginnings of hyperventilation. A few tears of his own escaped, and Tony let them fall. They burnt his cheeks.

Beck leant back, taking his foot off of Peter's shoulder, but made a borderline disgusted statement.

"I don't care about you." And with that, Beck took off, his drones following, surrounding him like a herd of sheep out the door. Once Tony was sure he had left, he turned to Peter.

He was curled up on the ground in a tight ball, sobbing his heart out. Tony ran up to him.

"Pete! Kid?" He sank down next to him, and tried to pull him into a hug, but his arms went straight through him.

The hologram lifted. Beck had taken the real Peter with him.

"Son on a bitch!" Tony yelled, jumping up and catching sight of the one remaining drone. He ran up to it, ignoring when it shot him in the shin, and slammed his fists into it over and over again, tearing out wires. The drone fell to the floor, wrecked. Tony collapsed onto the floor, staring at the drone. The cuts that now littered his knuckles started to sting, and the small hole that had been burned into his leg fucking hurt like hell. But one of Beck's drones were gone. Hooray.

That didn't change the fact that both his and Peter's faces were still wet with tears.

**A/N: as of today the name of this fic has been changed from "sweet and salty" to "sweet and sour" this'll make sense in the end I swear. ALSO, I think Im gonna take my two other fics off here for a while, because I've basically forgotten about them. If/when I finish this fic, I'll most likely re-upload them bc writing two fics at once is a bit too much for me, kudos to those who manage it!****Please leave a review, i will most likely cry bc yall are so nice aaaa**


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